


sometimes i feel

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, KARA (Band), Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, 룸메이트 | Roommate (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 00:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4725701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Amber says: "I have this friend."</i> Usually this is when Youngji starts to worry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes i feel

**Author's Note:**

> I'm telling you. A good AU prompt gives me SO MUCH LIFE right now. Also, it helps in surviving the eternal wait for public transportation. Anyways.
> 
> For the prompt: 'college/university + exams + please help me pass this' because... Well. Because.

Amber says: "I have this friend."

She is two weeks into the end of the semester when Amber corners her too. They are in the stacks, by the physiology section, since Youngji needs that obscure reference for a paper that is probably going to take her six hours, a coffee, and maybe a bag of barbecue chips to write.

"You have this friend," she repeats, running her finger against the book spines.

"He knows who you are --"

Youngji blinks. "I'm not going on a blind date."

"No," her eonni sighs and leans against the shelves, blocking some books from view. "You're the teaching assistant in his chemistry lab."

"Oh, okay. That narrows it down." She doesn't mean to be flippant. She's just tired. And wants to stop considering barbecue chips as a meal. Youngji pushes her bangs away from her eyes. "I have four classes that I help in."

"Not important," Amber says, impatient. "The point is that he needs help and has questions about the upcoming exam since your Professor hates... well, everyone."

"That's true," she agrees.

"So you'll do it?"

She shouldn't. Youngji has four separate papers due at the end of the week. She has also spent the better part of the morning regretting the fact that she has, in fact, decided medical school is her life sentence. So much for professional soccer. Or, like, being an idol.

"I guess," she agrees. "Sure," she says too.

Amber grins and pulls at her braid.

That should have been the sign, of course.

 

 

 

 

Seulgi tells the story better. It usually takes Youngji awhile since she is probably grappling with the fact that he very nearly _blew up_ the chemistry lab to save his partner's freshly minted nail art and her fake bag. But then again, nobody died so they're okay?

"He's late," she tells the other girl on the phone, juggling her bag and a coffee as she stands on the library steps. "And it's a little weird that he didn't ask me in class."

"You're intimidating," Seulgi teases, amused. "Also he did nearly set that girl's hair on fire too --"

"That was Mark," she says dryly.

"Same thing." Seulgi is dismissive. "But I can't believe you don't know him. We actually met at that party --"

Youngji has no idea what party she's talking about. Instead, she half-listens to Seulgi talk about it and there is something more about body glitter and the amount of alcohol that all watched Henry consume because he was going through a breakup and Henry likes to write love songs on napkins while crying in front of _other_ girls to get through it.

But she remembers him the moment she sees him, breaking through a group of people with that stupid, wide smile that suddenly smacks her in the face when he gets closer. Jackson Wang and that _dumb_ smile, she thinks. Handing her a drink. Telling her that green is so not her color because that's exactly what you tell a girl at a party and when there's barely any lights to see that she was wearing blue.

"Hey," he breathes. Then he grabs her bag. He reaches for her coffee too, finishing it off before she can say anything. "Ugh," he tells her. "I needed that."

Youngji has a headache already.

"I have to go," she says to Seulgi and hangs up to laughter, her eyes narrowing as Jackson tosses her coffee in the trashcan. He slings her bag over his shoulder. "You're late," she says flatly.

"I didn't have your number," he explains, cheerfully even.

That's a lie, she almost says. Instead, she shakes her head and turns around, marching inside.

It's not too busy inside. There are a couple of free tables by the windows, the ones that overlook the prettier part of their courtyard and campus. She immediately makes a beeline for them, ignoring Jackson as he nearly trips into her. She picks the seat facing the window, watching as he drops her bag by her feet and takes the one next to her instead of across from her. Like normal people do, you know.

"Why me?" she asks and it's unapologetic enough to make him laugh next to her. "You could have asked Zhoumi-oppa."

Jackson shrugs. "All the girls booked up his time," he says. "Besides there's a rumor going around that you're some kind of crazy genius -- I'd rather pass because of the crazy genius, thank you very much."

Youngji doesn't know whether or not she should blush or hit him.

This is how it starts.

 

 

 

 

He brings her coffee the next time. It's sweet enough, and he tells her that he tried to get it as right as possible. Which is, well, sweet.

"So," she explains to him, leaning over his notes. They sit side by side at a table by the windows. She squints and scribbles part of the equation into the paper. "You have to remember the base equation," she says. "And be as clear as possible -- you're trying to denote an equilibrium here, but you're not exactly clear."

"Are you making fun of my handwriting?" he teases.

She pauses for a second. Her mouth quirks too. "Yes," she replies.

He laughs quietly.

The library isn't as busy yet. They are on the second floor and she likes the table they picked because they can see the small garden just outside the windows. She breathes a little, just as Jackson bows his head and starts working on the next round of equations.

She should really start her philosophy paper, but she's been putting it off since it's _philosophy_ and Jackson was early today _and_ he brought her coffee.

"Medical school, huh?"

Youngji blinks and he's looking at her, pen tapping over his book.

"Yeah." Her face burns, caught. "Medical school."

His head tilts. "Henry says you're the smartest one in our year."

She snorts. "He used to try and cheat off of me in high school." Her mouth quirks and she leans back in her seat. "He wasn't exactly the beacon of subtle behavior."

Jackson laughs and the sound is low and warm. She squirms in her chair because something in her belly just flutters and it's weird and new and she doesn't know how to exactly push it away.

"So you knew him first?"

She nods. "I went to school with Henry, grew up with Seulgi, and Amber-eonni moved to my neighborhood when I was eight or nine? I don't remember. We all sort of grew up with each other anyway."

"And then medical school," he says.

"And then medical school," she agrees and could tell him about how her sister is going to be an opera singer and how insanely jealous she is about her eonni's decision, about how she could be that brave too. But Youngji has always been more of the pragmatist anyway.

Jackson nods, as if he were trying to decide something, and then returns to the equations in front of him. She thinks to herself _what even is this_ and watches, openly even, as he leans in and bites his lip, continuing to scribble his answers hard against the paper.

Later, his pencil will break. "You're really interesting," he tells her then.

 

 

 

 

This is a routine. A weird one, if she's serious. She has two days in the library where she scribbles out the definition in front of her, right before she starts working:

rou*tine, /ro͞o'tēn/ - noun, adjective, and verb

Then she thinks of him and that stupid smile that he has, the one that sort of breaks against his mouth, his lips curling and there are _dimples_ , okay, and she feels like she's the bigger idiot anyway.

He calls her and cancels their next session.

"Sorry," he apologizes over the phone, and it sounds sincere. There's a cough. "Jaebum-hyung had some weird, freakin' virus and of course, because he's a dumbass and my immune system _sucks_ , I can barely leave my room and have missed my stupid history lecture, which by the way, makes me feel like an ass because my professor talked about the exam today and if I _fail_ \--"

"Where are you," stumbles out of her mouth before she can think. She feels her cheeks flush and then clears her throat. "I mean, you're home, right?"

There's a pause. "Yeah, why?"

She can't even let herself hesitate.

"Give me your address," Youngji says.

Two hours later, she has a bag of her mom's noodle soup that she made because, well, _because_ and is standing outside his door, staring at the buzzer like she's gone and lost her mind.

Her fingers tremble when she presses it.

 

 

"I can't believe you came," he says for the fourth time and there is a tissue hanging out of his nose. "You really didn't have to come, you know," he says too.

She shoves a spoon in his mouth and changes the channel.

It's ten o'clock now and she realizes that she's been here, at his place, for more than just a couple of hours. She's also finished two papers and is well on her way to doing stupidly well in her anatomy course (thank god) because Jackson wanted to watch an action film and there is something bizarrely therapeutic about exploding cars.

She sits next to him on the couch, careful enough to not get _too_ close. She's already told him that if she gets sick she is going to come back and kill him.

"Being sick sucks," she says gently, moving her gaze back to her laptop over her knees. She saves her paper and ignores the slurping sound that comes from Jackson and the bowl of soup in his hands. "It's marginally better when there's someone else around."

"True," he agrees. Which sounds more like, "- _RUE_." But she's not judging.

They're quiet then and she wraps up her paper with the rest of her _this is the meaning of life_ nonsense because having a free write for a final paper is always a good idea. When she finishes, she closes her laptop and puts it on his coffee table. She turns and catches him watching her, his eyes half-closed.

Youngji bites her lip. Jackson's mouth quirks and he reaches forward, reaching for her hand.

"I'm glad you're here," he says this time.

His fingers touch the back of her hand carefully, almost too carefully, as if he were waiting for her to respond or push him away. She doesn't.

"I'm getting used to you." She's teasing him and it takes him a moment. There is a strange range of emotions that unravels on his face; she resists the urge to laugh. I don't hate you, she almost says.

"Good." Jackson nods and curls his fingers around her hand. "I'm getting somewhere. I thought you hated me."

She shakes her head. "I mean, I was concerned that you nearly burned the lab down." He winces and she laughs, actually laughs. Her lips curl. "But then again, I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one."

"True," he mutters, under his breath.

Youngji laughs. "You'll be fine on your exam."

He shrugs. She can't really read him, she thinks. There are these little quirks that she has picked up naturally, even after a couple sessions with him. He doesn't really hide anything from her; she knows when he's frustrated and his face scrunches up like he's going to _really, freakin' gonna lose it_ or when he's watching her, but trying to watch her without being obvious. He's still a particular kind of mystery to her though because he's smart and just impatient and really, she can't tutor that.

"I don't want to talk about exams," he says.

Jackson leans in then, his eyes dark, and she watches him, sort of mystified as he gets closer. She watches his mouth open and close, as if he were deciding, but then he smiles and she's sort of reaching in the dark for what to do.

He pushes her bangs away from her eyes. Her lips curl and he's a little closer, his mouth parting slightly.

Youngji's hand covers his mouth before he kisses her. 

"No," she says. A laugh bubbles against her throat as he looks at her wide-eyed. Her fingers are gentle against his face and she's trying to focus away from the sensation of his mouth, sticky and hot against her skin.

She shakes her head.

"Kiss me when you're better," she informs him. "Because then if you get me sick, I'll have to kill you."

Her hand drops. He scoffs, pouting. Her heart is pounding though and she doesn't let go of his other hand, trying to fight the smile that keeps trying to permanently etch itself into her face.

"Then I'll just be sad," she says.

Jackson laughs.

 

 

 

 

"I want you to name your first born after me," Henry informs her, when they are sitting outside the library, on the steps as she waits for Jackson.

Her eyes narrow and she is thinking about her last exam and what movie she wants to see afterwards. Explosions, she told Jackson. And a lot of guns. 

"That's pretty presumptuous of you, oppa," she replies, skimming her phone. "I'm going to be stupidly busy for the next couple of years. And I don't think Jackson will agree to naming a hypothetical --"

"Hypothetical what?"

Jackson steps around her from behind, sitting next to her and handing a coffee to her in the same, quick swoop. He drops an arm around her shoulders and grins lazily at her, looking at Henry over the top of her head.

"He wants us to name our first born after him," she says.

"I was responsible for this," Henry tells them both, waving his hand around and shifting to the step in front of them. "And Amber can't take any credit for it."

Jackson snorts. "We haven't even gone on a date yet."

Youngji laughs and they half-listen to Henry start to rave about how they are so _behind_ on this, and how there's some kind of bet and he's going to lose a lot of money and _what do you mean you haven't made out yet, you guys_ \-- it doesn't matter, she doesn't care.

"Should we put him out of his misery?" she asks quietly, tugging on Jackson's jacket. He looks down at her, amused. "I feel kind of bad," she adds dryly.

"Well." He pretends to think. "I'm not contagious anymore."

"This is true," she says seriously.

"So --"

She leans in and kisses him, her hand cupping his face. It doesn't feel like it comes out of nowhere. It feels like she's saying to him _I like you too_ and the strange, whirlwind of coming to this point hits her this way. His mouth opens against hers and his hand slides against the back of her neck, his fingers curling against the base of her hair. He kisses her back and it's slow, lazy even, and when he bites at her mouth, she makes this soft, _soft_ sound that uncurls from the back of her throat.

It's a sharp first kiss and she doesn't know why she kissed him first. When he breaks away, his head drops against hers and they are both breathing heavily.

"I was supposed to kiss you first," Jackson tells her, and his fingers smooth over her skin, pulling at the collar of her jacket. They both ignore Henry and her knees fall into his as Jackson's mouth hovers over hers again.

Youngji manages to smile brightly. 

"So do it again," she says.


End file.
